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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26405278">We Need Each Other</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/harimenui/pseuds/abbacchiosbelt'>abbacchiosbelt (harimenui)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Requests [31]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Arcana (Visual Novel), ジョジョの奇妙な冒険 | JoJo no Kimyou na Bouken | JoJo's Bizarre Adventure</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/F, F/M, Fluff, Other, Sharing Clothes, Sickfic, Soup, Tumblr Prompt</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 11:35:14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,153</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26405278</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/harimenui/pseuds/abbacchiosbelt</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of fluff prompts from Tumblr.</p>
<p>Find me @ <a href="https://abbacchiosbelt.tumblr.com">abbacchiosbelt</a> over on Tumblr! ♡</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Apprentice/Asra (The Arcana), Apprentice/Julian Devorak, Asra (The Arcana)/Reader, Formaggio (JoJo)/Reader, Ghiaccio (JoJo)/Reader, Julian Devorak/Reader</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Requests [31]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1404202</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>64</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Asra | Yearn</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Prompt: "If your up to it could you do the fluff starter “I like the way your hands fit in mine” with Asra, please :3"</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>There had never been anyone in your life like Asra Alnazar. Everything about him made your heart sing like you were in a cheesy romance novel - the way his bedhead looked in the morning, how his eyes looked in the moonlight, how he always smelled like <em>home</em>. Asra returned the reverence you felt for him tenfold, unafraid to hold you close while he whispered how perfect you were and how much he loved you.</p>
<p>It was that love that made your heart ache when Asra had to leave for a short trip. The days of the past where you were left out of his trips were long gone, but he still occasionally had to take care of business on short trips. Still, there was no reason for two of you to go when he’d only be gone a couple of short days. You would miss him dearly as he would you and the security of knowing he’d bring you along on any other trips made his short journeys much less harrowing.</p>
<p>You couldn’t help but be lonely, though. The shop just didn’t feel the same without the smell of his rice pudding in the evening and without his laughter tinkling in the air. Even though Portia and Julian would make sure to stop by during his absence, you just couldn’t help but miss Asra’s hand in yours.</p>
<p>The second day of his absence was nearly over - your worries had been assuaged by a quick message from him that popped up in your cup of coffee that morning, nearly startling you out of your seat. He and Faust had run into some storms on the way back but planned on continuing their journey home as soon as they could.</p>
<p>It was nearly midnight, though, and you couldn’t help the worry that bubbled in the back of your mind. Just before you’re about to try to contact him again, you hear the locks clinking open on the front door and hear Asra’s familiar voice announcing that he was back. </p>
<p>You practically glide down the stairs to greet him, immediately pulling him into a tight hug, inhaling deeply as you hold Asra close.</p>
<p>“Looks like someone missed me,” he teases. He reaches one hand to stroke your hair gently as you hold each other, sighing in contentment. “How are you, love?”</p>
<p>Faust pops out of Asra’s scarf and greets you with a boop to the nose. ‘<em>Friend!’ </em></p>
<p>You chuckle before offering Faust a scritch under her chin, one arm still wrapped around Asra. “I missed you too, Faust.” You smile up at Asra once Faust is satisfied, slithering out of Asra’s scarf to flop around your shoulders. “I’m great. You and Faust didn’t catch cold from the storm or anything, did you?”</p>
<p>“You worry too much,” Asra says, laughing. “We’re perfectly fine.”</p>
<p>He leans back and gathers your hands in both of his, squeezing. “See, perfectly warm.”</p>
<p>You squeeze back and thread your fingers through his, leaning forward to press a kiss to his nose. It catches Asra off guard and a light pink blush dusts his cheeks - you can’t help but smile cheekily in return. Catching him off guard with affection was a treat that you lived for.</p>
<p>Before you can tease him about it, Asra gathers himself and turns the affection back to you. “You know, <em>I’ve always liked the way your hands fit in mine.</em>”</p>
<p>You blush and Asra grins, knowing that something so cheesy would surely affect you in the same way you’d just teased him.</p>
<p>You never minded too much - it just meant that things were back to normal and that Asra was finally home again.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Julian | Care</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>A short reply inspired by an ask I got.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Julian,” you whine, pulling the cool sheets up to cover the lower half of your face. “I’m sick of this new medicine. I don’t want to take it.”</p><p>Julian raises an eyebrow at you from where he’s leaning back on the headboard next to you in bed to keep an eye on you and gives you a gentle smile. “I know it’s no fun, darling, but you’ll feel better soon.”</p><p>You give him a pitiful glare, your heart not in it - you weren’t mad at him of course, but you just felt rotten from the side effects of the medicine. “It doesn’t feel like it.”</p><p>“I know, dear,” Julian says, paying no mind to the little glare you shot him. He places his hand on the cool washcloth on your forehead and frowns a little before he peels it off gently. “I think you’ll feel better after we get this changed. I could bring you a little treat too if you’re up to it. Asra dropped off some of that pumpkin bread you love so much while you were asleep.”</p><p>It’s impossible to keep the small smile off your lips when you think about some of Salasi’s warm pumpkin bread. (There’s no doubt in your mind that Asra had enchanted it to keep it warm like he always did when you couldn’t eat it right away.)</p><p>“That sounds nice.” You adjust your spot in the bed so you can meet Julian’s soft gaze. “Sorry for being grumpy.”</p><p>“No worries, my love. I know how it feels.” Julian leans down and places a kiss on your slightly damp forehead before he gingerly gets up from your shared bed. “Sit tight, and I’ll be right back.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Ghiaccio | Soft</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Prompt: "for the fluff prompt, could u please do ghiaccio + “are you wearing my sweater?” ;w;"</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It had only been a few days since Ghiaccio had left for his latest mission, yet everything felt a little duller around the apartment without him. The sunrise and sunset even seemed less brilliant without Ghiaccio by your side. He was most docile then, always snuggling closer to you in the morning (even though he’d deny it upon the subject being broached) and urging you to go to bed early so you could get ‘a proper night’s sleep’ like he did. Really, he just didn’t want to be alone in bed without you.</p><p>Without Ghiaccio being home, your routine wasn’t stable. You could function without him, of course, but having another person to spend the day with and hold you accountable if need be was the better option in your opinion. You knew what you were getting into when you started dating him - he’d made sure it was drilled into your skull just exactly what he did - but it still felt lonely without him around.</p><p>Cooler, even - though you couldn’t appreciate the irony.</p><p>The reminder of the cool air in the apartment makes you shiver. Peeling yourself from the reading chair you’d been sitting in, you open up the small closet that you and Ghiaccio shared. His wardrobe was far from extensive, as he preferred function over form. Rows of white sweaters were broken up with a few neutral colors you’d purchased for him over time. You eye a cozy black sweater nestled among Ghiaccio’s clothes and pull it out, running your fingers over the soft fabric.</p><p>When you held it close, you could still smell a bit of Ghiaccio’s cologne clinging to the sweater. You smile to yourself and slide the sweater over your head, the immediate feeling of warmth and coziness enveloping your body. No wonder Ghiaccio wore this particular piece so much at home - it was extra cozy. It had been a gift from you just because, and though Ghiaccio had grown flustered and almost forgot to thank you, you could tell he liked it.</p><p>Your head shoots up when you hear several knocks from the front door, tension falling from your shoulders when you recognize the pattern Ghiaccio had taught you. By the time you make it out to the living room to greet him, Ghiaccio had already tossed his shoes off. </p><p>Before you can even say anything, Ghiaccio’s eyes go wide and his cheeks heat up as he takes in what you’re wearing. “<em>Are you wearing my sweater?”</em></p><p>You nod and Ghiaccio purses his lips before stepping forward to wrap you in a tight hug. He’s cool to the touch as always, but his touch is still comforting. The sweater protects you from the worse of Ghiaccio’s chill, the blue-haired man always needing to adjust after coming back from solo missions. (His tolerance to cold was much higher than yours was.)</p><p>“I missed you,” he mumbles, finally breaking apart the hug. Ghiaccio speaks again before you can say something back, not wanting to further embarrass himself. “And it looks like you did too if you had to steal my sweater.”</p><p>“You don’t mind, do you?” You reply. Ghiaccio pauses, as if he expected you to respond with sarcasm, and gives you a rare smile. </p><p>“I guess not.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Formaggio | Thoughtful</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Prompt: “I heard you were feeling sick, so I made you some soup.” For Formaggio pretty please."</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>If anyone had walked into your apartment right now, they might have assumed the pile of blankets on the couch was just a moment of laziness from someone not wanting to fold them properly. If they took a second longer to look, though, they’d see the steady rise and fall of your breath as you wrapped yourself even tighter in your blanket cocoon. </p><p>The hints that you were sick - a light scratch in your throat, a cough that wouldn’t quite go away - were brushed off by you as just a change in the weather. There was no way you could miss work and lose money on this week’s paycheck, or miss out on seeing your favorite customer.</p><p>Even he had tilted his head in concern when he saw the dark circles under your eyes as you helped him out for the umpteenth time that month as an excuse for the two of you to spend time together. In the back corner of the shop you worked at, Formaggio had taken your chin in his head and tilted your head left and right, pursing his lips as he declared you sick.</p><p>‘<em>Maggi, I’m not sick.’</em></p><p>
  <em>‘You could’ve fooled me, amica. C’mon, at least leave early today. I’ll buy you lunch.’</em>
</p><p>The offer of food from your normally cheapskate beau made you realize he was truly concerned - but you merely shook your head and headed back to the floor, determined to finish out your shift despite the fact it had Formaggio grumbling.</p><p>Now, as you lay in your pile of blankets with a sore throat and runny nose, you realize you should have listened to him. It’d been a day and a half since you’d been able to work, and your illness was at the point where you felt dizzy just from standing up. The last thing you wanted to do was make it worse, so you resigned yourself to laying on the couch in a lump.</p><p>The sound of your front door unlocking makes your heart twist with worry until you hear a familiar voice ring out.</p><p>“Yo, it’s just me!” You hear the sound of shoes being shoved off and the door being locked shut before Formaggio appears in your vision, a cheerful grin on his face and a sizable bag in his right hand. Despite your stuffy nose, you could smell the pleasant aroma of your favorite soup. He gives you a once over. “You look awful.”</p><p>“Gee, thanks.” You grumble. You poke your head out of the blankets to get a better look at things and Formaggio reaches out to pat you on the head with his free hand before he sets the bag down and plops down next to your blanket cocoon.</p><p>“So, tesoro,” Formaggio starts, giving you a smug look. “<em>I heard you were feeling sick, so I made you some soup.</em>”</p><p>“Yeah, yeah. You don’t have to rub it in.” You huff. Formaggio laughs at your response, used to the sarcastic rapport the two of you shared. You couldn’t help but feel grateful though, climbing free from your pile of blankets until your torso was out. Immediately you feel the effects of moving too much and lean your head back on the couch and close your eyes, groaning. “Fuck.”</p><p>Formaggio clicks his tongue, pressing the back of his hand to your forehead. The coolness of his hand feels like heaven on your hot skin. “Damn, you’re burnin’ up. Guess I shouldn’t tease you too much.” He removes his hand from your forehead and you hear him start to rustle around in the bag, the aroma of soup getting more fragrant.</p><p>When you open your eyes to look, you see Formaggio holding the cup of soup in one hand and a spoon in his other. He grins. “Want me to feed you?”</p><p>Though you’d rebuke him any other time, his offer sounds more than pleasant. It was hard to let someone else take care of you, but Formaggio’s lack of ulterior motive made you feel safe. You nod, and Formaggio’s grin grows even wider. </p><p>“Y’know, if I do a good job of taking care of ya, you might try to get sick again in the future.”</p><p>Ah, there it was. You roll your eyes and Formaggio cackles - at least one thing was normal right now. </p>
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